


Chains and Whips

by Kerensa



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M, S&M, UNdercover story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 06:06:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7210940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerensa/pseuds/Kerensa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Blair go undercover at an S&M club. What will Jim learn about Blair?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chains and Whips

**Chains and Whips** \- [Kerensa](mailto:strifesmistress@yahoo.com)

Blair Sandburg, anthropologist and police observer, leaned against the elevator door and sighed. Not any regular old sigh, either. No, this was a deep down _I‘m tired, bored and wanna go home_ sigh. Sadly for Blair, going home was many hours away. 

The elevator stopped with a jerk and a ding. Sandburg checked to make sure it had stopped on the right floor and plastered on a friendly, but not too friendly, smile, before the industrial gray doors opened. Running a hand over his curly brown hair—which had a life of its own—he walked over to the doors which had **Major Crimes** stenciled on it. He opened the doors to—surprise, surprise—a loud, chaotic…mess. 

Several officers were hurrying to and fro. A knot of detectives were huddled around Brown and Rafe’s desk and Captain Banks was—not surprisingly—talking loudly to the assembled people. 

Internally, Blair sighed. _I wonder what’s got their panties in a bunch this time?_

“Chief,” Jim greeted quietly, as Blair walked up to stand beside him. Sandburg gave the Sentinel a nod and smile. Banks glared at the younger man, as if his arrival had caused some sort of major interruption. The grad student refrained from rolling his eyes, but just barely. 

“So, none of you are willing to volunteer?” the captain asked. 

“No sir.” 

“Not really.” 

“Nuh uh.” 

Blair listened to the chorus of dissenters and wondered what was going on…for about two seconds. With a pat to Jim’s back, Blair moved across to Ellison’s desk and sat down. Despite what Banks thought, the observer didn’t really give a flying monkey’s crap about what was going on with most of the cases. Jim’s, yes, if Blair needed to help with them, or at least the paperwork, otherwise, who really cared. 

Not immediately seeing any paperwork that he could help with, Blair opened his backpack and pulled out a thick sheaf of tests that he needed to grade. Whenever the grad student could he worked on his own work, because you knew when Jim would need his help. 

Ellison sat down at his desk with a sigh and a frown. Sandburg looked at his furrowed brow and asked, mostly because he was expected to, “Hey, Big Guy. Is everything alr…” 

“Ellison. Sandburg. My office,” Banks interrupted him. 

Somewhat surprised at being included in the invitation, Blair nonetheless stood up when Jim did. In the seven and a half months that Blair had been “observing” Jim, Simon had been, what Sandburg termed as _occasionally friendly_ , meaning he was nice to the grad student when Jim was around and a lot more standoffish when he wasn’t. 

The large captain sat down behind his desk with a weary sigh. “I’m sorry, Captain,” Jim told him seriously. “It’s just that most people are uncomfortable in places like that.” Banks nodded his agreement. 

“Places like what?” Blair asked. Simon gave him a ‘don’t interrupt’ look. Sandburg gave him a ‘you asked me in here for a reason’ glare back. A surprised look crossed the older man’s face, like he couldn’t believe that the anthropologist had stood up to him. 

“Ruffians,” Ellison answered him. 

“It’s a, uhm…” 

Blair watched in amusement as both Simon and Jim became more and more flustered as they tried to describe the club. He gave a brief thought to just letting them twist in the wind for a while longer, but then his better nature took over. 

“It’s an S & M club,” Sandburg stated calmly. 

“Yeah,” the ex-Ranger agreed, suddenly finding the view outside of Banks’ office fascinating. 

Blair waited for either man to continue, not wanted to be accused of ‘interfering’. “Okay, so what’s the problem?” he finally asked. 

The captain frowned at him. “Nobody wants to go undercover at an S & M club,” Banks stated, his tone saying that Sandburg should have known that all along. 

“Uh huh. What’s the case?” 

“There are rumors that drugs are being run out of Ruffians. Vice has asked for a pair to go undercover as a couple, because their own people are too recognizable. However, since it is just a rumor about the drugs, they can only ask and _I_ can only ask for volunteers. 

Blair looked over at Jim—well, Jim’s back, anyway—and tried to hide the smirk he could feel forming on his lips, but the sparkle in his azure colored eyes gave Blair away. “Sooooo,” he drawled, “Him. You were in Vice and worked on all kinds of cases, both there and in Major Crimes, but you can’t go undercover in an S  & M club?” 

Simon quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head towards the detective, apparently interested in Jim’s explanation himself. Blair was interested to note that the back of the Sentinel’s neck had turned a bright vermillion. 

“It’s not that,” Ellison admitted, turning to face them, finally, but still not looking at either man. “I would need a partner and there’s nobody willing to go with me.” 

Blair looked back and forth between the two men incredulously. “You’re kidding me.” 

Ellison shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. Interestingly, the buff, ex-Ranger still wouldn’t look Sandburg in the eye. 

“So, unless you want to go with him, we’re outta luck,” Banks threw down the challenge. 

“Okay,” the grad student replied easily. 

“Yeah, that’s what I…what?” Captain Banks asked, his mouth hanging open, in stunned surprise. Blair noted that Jim was finally looking at him. “Are you serious?” Simon wanted to know. 

“You do realize what **kind** of place it is?” the Sentinel asked. 

Blair rolled his eyes. “ **Yeah** , we’ve established that.” He shrugged one flannel clad shoulder negligently. “We’d wear some leather and touch each other. What’s the big deal?” 

Simon sputtered several times and it was easy to see that it _would_ have been a big deal to _him_. Jim, whose mouth was hanging open, came to himself with a simple blink of the eye. 

“Are you sure, Chief?” Jim asked, his tone of voice conveying his worry. “Those clubs can get kind of rough.” 

“Yes, I’m sure. Are you certain that _you_ want to go?” 

“Well, yeah, I suppose so. If you’re sure.” Blair raised an expressive eyebrow. “Fine then, Sandburg and I volunteer.” 

“Alright then.” Banks gave a little smirk. “You can both go down to the Special Missions Office and find some _appropriate_ outfits to wear.” The older man made sure to emphasize the term appropriate, certain in his mind that Blair, at least, would balk when he saw the revealing clothes he was expected to wear. 

!!!!

Jim looked cool, calm and collected. 

Jim **looked** calm. Inside, he was actually stunned at some…alright, most of the clothes that Blair was pulling off of the racks of clothes. What really worried Jim was the fact that most of the leather, lace…whatever, pieces were deemed too **tame** by the younger man who normally wore many, many layers. 

“Okay, we’re good to go,” Sandburg pronounced a few minutes later. 

Jim looked at the armful of leather and suede and decided that he could handle wearing leather pants. He did look askance at the animal print that he could see peeking out of the pile, but reasoned that if Blair had picked it out, then Sandburg could probably…hopefully…stand to wear it. 

“Okay, let’s go, Chief,” he answered gruffly, as if he wasn’t secretly a little freaked by all of this. 

!!!!

“Are you insane?!” Jim shrieked. Although, in his mind, the detective insisted that it _wasn’t_ a shriek, instead, he’d made a very manly yell. 

Right. 

“I am **NOT** wearing this!” Ellison looked at the leopard print— **purple** leopard print pants that Blair insisted _he_ wear. “No way in hell!” 

“Stop shouting,” Blair said firmly. “It’s too late to get different clothes,” he reasoned. “Besides, these were the only pants I could find in your size. So, wear them already.” 

After a lot of grumbling—and more than a little wiggling and tugging—Jim was dressed, more or less—mostly less—in his clubbing clothes. Although purple leopard print pants made out of Spandex were nothing like the Sentinel had been expecting, he had, at least, expected a shirt of some kind. Instead, he was expected to go in just the pants…and a black collar. When Jim tried to protest, Blair had been quick to reassure him that the collar was lined with velvet, which shouldn’t affect his senses adversely. Ellison wasn’t given the chance to say that his protest was over the whole outfit, not just the collar. 

!!!!

_“Nah, nah, nah. Come on!”_

“Take your shoes off,” Blair instructed him very, _very_ softly, as soon as they were inside the club’s doors. 

_“It’s so good bein’ bad.”_

“What?” Jim asked, startled. The noise from the club—music and patrons, alike—added to the numerous and varied smells, were already playing havoc with the Sentinel’s enhanced senses. 

“Take your shoes off,” Sandburg repeated, a bit louder this time. 

_“Ain’t no way I’m turnin’ back.”_

Figuring that it was a custom—like at some Oriental homes and businesses—the ex-Ranger quickly removed his footgear. It was only after his coat and shoes were off that he realized Blair _hadn’t_ taken off his sturdy hiking boots. Ellison was about to query his Guide about that inconsistency when the younger man **did** take off his long coat and all coherent thought fled from Jim’s brain. 

Blair had on _red **leather**_ pants. They laced up on the outside of the smaller man’s legs, through 1 ½” grommets, each spaced a few inches apart. His shirt was a silvery, wire mesh, wife-beater that left Sandburg’s arms completely bare.1 The total effect was a whole lot of anthropologist showing, including copious amounts of chest hair—and a silver nipple ring. 

Jim wasn’t the only one who was staring, with his mouth hanging open. There wasn’t any drool, at least in Jim’s case, because his mouth had dried up at the tantalizing sight. 

As they stepped away from the front door, Ellison was further stunned when the grad student turned back from hanging up his coat, because the curly haired man had a long silver lead in his hands. The sentinel in him reared up in protest. 

“Woah, wait a minute there, Chief,” he began to complain. 

The anthropologist raised a single, dark eyebrow. “Well, I’m certainly not going to be the sub,” he stated firmly. Blair looked pointedly at Ellison’s attire; he reached out and ran a finger over the simple black leather collar that Jim was wearing. 

Jim gasped slightly. When Blair touched the collar, he felt a jolt of electricity that went from his head to…well, suffice it to say that it went well south of his neck. The older man felt himself blushing, especially when Blair clipped the chain to his collar, but for once, he didn’t get mad, instead he decided to go with the flow. 

!!!!

_“I may be bad, but I’m perfectly good at it.”_

‘Who is that singer?’ A loud voice interrupted Jim’s query. 

_”BLAIR?!_ a deeper, gruff voice squealed out. 

Naturally, because of the leash, and because he just wanted to, Jim obediently followed behind Sandburg. Blair led him over to a tall man, with blond hair, wearing tight, black leather pants and vest, the latter covered with chains. Ellison wasn’t surprised to see a whip coiled in his hands, not considering the environment. 

“Rob,” Sandburg greeted him calmly. 

“Master, it’s so good to see you,” he said reverently. Ellison noted that the man had a British accent. 

‘Wait a minute…master?’ 

“Rob,” Blair said repressively and then he smiled at the other man, who for some reason, looked familiar to Jim. “It’s good to see you, too.” 

Apparently it was, because Sandburg leaned forward and kissed the other man…on the mouth! Jim listened to his roommate’s heartbeat and breathing, neither changed during their exchange, so Blair was used to kissing men. Jim felt his own heart begin to race. 

‘Maybe there’s hope, after all,’ the Sentinel wondered. He had seen Blair in action, flirting with the ladies; chasing, and in most cases, catching them, so Jim didn’t figure that _he_ had a snowball’s chance in hell of being with Blair. 

Rob smiled a great, big, happy smile and pursed his lips as he looked the curly haired man over eagerly. With an indulgent sigh, and seemingly from out of nowhere, Sandburg produced his own whip. 

Jim felt like his eyes were going to fall out of his head. Blair…with a whip! A very expensive whip from the looks of it, especially if the red stones decorating the handle were real rubies. Ellison dialed up his sense of vision and saw that yes, they were real, and each one was of a fine quality. 

Rob waited until Blair turned the handle to a particular jewel and then he reverently leaned forward and kissed the stone. The gesture reminded Jim of a scene from a mob movie, where lesser criminals paid the ‘don’ homage by kissing his ring. Ellison gave the man who was drooling over _his_ Blair a second look. 

The blond man fit perfectly in with the club environment. His light colored hair was covered with a black hat and his hands and wrists were similarly covered with black leather biker gloves. He wore a shiny white shirt with black (naturally) embellishments. Lengths of chains looped from his belt and adorned the tight—very tight—black pants. It was readily apparent that Rob, whoever he was, was _very_ happy to see Sandburg. 

The Sentinel let his gaze roam over the other man as his mind raced. Blond, British…black leather. _gasp_ Jim knew him. 

It was Rob Halford from Judas Priest! 

!!!!

Later, Jim knew that he’d be grateful that shock kept him from making a fool of himself in the middle of the club and asking for Halford’s autograph, like a teenage groupie. But, right now, he was having trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that the rocker was in an S  & M club. 

Okay, he’d heard that Halford was gay. Fine, he got that. But a domination club?! 

Jim gave the blond man a third look. Leather, chains, whip…ooooh. He thought about all of the album covers for the band and how Rob was dressed on each and every one. Really oh. 

“Are you alright, Jim?” Blair’s quiet voice startled the detective out of his thoughts. 

Ellison gave his younger friend a new look. In light of what he’d seen today, the Sentinel had a feeling that he didn’t really know the younger man at all. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Um huh,” was Blair’s thoughtful reply. He gave Jim a searching look, one accompanied by a slight smirk. “So, have you heard anything?” 

_Have I heard anything?!_ Jim thought with a mental shriek. Then it dawned on the detective what Blair was talking about. “Oh, uhm, drugs…and stuff,” he stalled, because since their entry into the club, Jim’s mind had been so overloaded that he’d completely forgotten the reason they were here in the first place. 

Blair placed a hand on Jim’s forearm and instructed, “Okay, I’m here now. I’ll ground you.” 

Jim let Sandburg misinterpret the reason he hadn’t used his senses before and actually began to focus on his job. “I don’t smell any drugs,” Ellison informed the anthropologist. He sent his other senses out into the club, as well. 

Sandburg moved his hand from Jim’s arm to his back and began to stroke the muscles on his back in a soothing and repetitive way. Blair’s hand left streaks of fire where it touched and sent tendrils of flames all the way down to his groin. 

Jim was certainly grounded! 

“So, what’s up with the whip?” he asked after a few minutes, when it was obvious that he wasn’t going to find any criminal activity. 

Blair raised a dark eyebrow at the Sentinel. “What do you think it means, James?” 

Ellison gasped. The observer rarely used his full, given name and it was like a glove of warm velvet wrapped itself around his balls. He swallowed hard and started to feel the beginnings of a blush, but Jim remembered where he was and quickly lost the rosy hue to his face. 

“I think it means that you’re more into this S &M stuff than just being undercover.” 

Sandburg waggled his eyebrows and grinned. It was a dirty, naughty grin, one that promised a lot more than playing dress up. 

“So, what’s with the rubies?” Jim asked. 

“Yes, they are rubies,” Blair confirmed. “Each of my subs has given me a ruby for the handle of my whip.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Whenever I meet up with one of them, they generally kiss the jewel that they gave me, as a sort of, tribute.” 

“Oh.” Jim looked at the whip coiled in Blair’s hand. He was surprised to find himself feeling tingly all over at the thought of being tied up and under the other man’s control. To give himself over to the freedom of someone else having control for a while…sounded wonderful. 

But the sight of Blair’s whip also stirred up other feelings. There were **so** many rubies. That many people had been under _his_ Blair’s command?! Ellison felt his blood boiling at the thought of Sandburg touching another—let alone several—in a way that he’d never even entertained until tonight. 

Unsure of what to do with his newfound feelings, Jim didn’t say anything. However, Blair, being highly intelligent and very observant, and a dom to boot, had a pretty good inkling of what was going on in the ex-Ranger’s head. 

“We can talk when we get home,” Blair promised and the smile on his face gave Jim hope for more than just talking. 

!!!!

“So, what happened?” Banks asked. 

Ellison felt a moment’s panic at the captain’s question. How could he answer him? Not about that…oh. 

“Ah, yes, sir. I could detect no illegal activities at all in the club Sandburg and I went to last night.” 

_At least, not in most states,_ Jim added silently, giving his partner a quick glance. Blair’s slow, lazy wink made several parts of Ellison’s body sit up and take notice. 

“Uhm, maybe the two of you should go back a few more nights,” Simon suggested. “Make sure that the criminal element didn’t just skip a night.” 

“Excellent idea, sir,” Jim agreed. That way he could show off the _permanent_ collar that Blair had gotten him. And, there was a ruby that Jim had his eye on that would look just perfect on the tip of the handle of Blair’s whip. His **last** ruby. 

The End. 

Acknowledgements: Betaed by Bobbie. Thanks to my daughter, Caitlin, for the idea for this story and the title. Thank you so much to Akablonded for the wonderful cover art. 

S  & M  
By Rihanna 

Na na na  
Come on 

Feels so good being bad  
There’s no way I’m turning back  
Now the pain is my pleasure  
Cause nothing could measure  


Love is great, love is fine  
Out the box, out of line  
The affliction of the feeling  
Leaves me wanting more  


[Chorus x2:]  
Cause I may be bad  
But I’m perfectly good at it  
Sex in the air  
I don’t care  
I love the smell of it  
Sticks and stones  
May break my bones  
But chains and whips  
Excite me 

Na na na na  
Come on  
Come on  
Come on  
I like it 

Love is great, love is fine  
Out the box, out of line  
The affliction of the feeling  
Leaves me wanting more 

[Chorus:]  
Cause I may be bad  
But I’m perfectly good at it  
Sex in the air  
I don’t care  
I love the smell of it  
Sticks and stones  
May break my bones  
But chains and whips  
Excite me 

Na na na na  
Come on  
Come on  
Come on  
I like it  
Like it 

S...S...S  
And  
M...M...M  
S...S...S  
And  
M...M...M  


Oh  
I love the feeling  
You bring to me  
Oh, you turn me on  
It’s exactly what  
I’ve been yearning for  
Give it to me strong  


And meet me in my boudoir  
With my body suit on, on, on 

I like it  
Like it 

[Chorus]  
Cause I may be bad  
But I’m perfectly good at it  
Sex in the air  
I don’t care  
I love the smell of it  
Sticks and stones  
May break my bones  
But chains and whips  
Excite me 

Na na na na  
Come on  
Come on  
Come on  
I like it  
Like it 

S...S...S  
And  
M...M...M  
S...S...S  
And  
M...M...M  


Think of Tyr, from the television show Andromeda. 


End file.
